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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306050">Like Branches On A Tree</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tontouro/pseuds/tontouro'>tontouro</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997 &amp; Broadway) Fusion, Bless them all, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, F/F, Gen, How Do I Tag, M/M, No beta we go down like men, Phichit Chulanont &amp; Katsuki Yuuri Are Best Friends, Phichit Chulanont Is a Good Friend, do NOT expect this to be good, grammarly is my beta oops, if someone better at writing wants to pick this up let me know, im sorry for all you pour souls who are going to look at this, send help, were just gonna ingnore the rest of Yuuri's family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:01:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tontouro/pseuds/tontouro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>So, basically, I watched Anastasia (1997) and my mind went, fuck, you know what this would be good as?, Yuri on Ice. And I went, fuck, I hate it when you're right.</p><p>But it's not Anastasia in the more traditional sense. Yuri is the lost princess. Otabek is Rasputin's son who transformed into a kitten to lead Yuri back to his only family, Viktor. Viktor is the grand duke who misses his lost little cousin. And Yuuri, who was supposed to be Dmitri, is the Japanese boy who Yuri found a mother in.</p><p>(so like, there were two versions, one where Nikolai was the grand duke, yuri is still the princess, otabek is dmitri, yuuri is the cousin to the grand duke {in this case a treasured servant} and viktor is the vlad, whomst is deeply in love with Yuuri, and then this shit storm)</p><p>i speak no foreign languages, because I'm English like that, except french. but i hardly know any french.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Christophe Giacometti &amp; Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri &amp; Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin &amp; Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit Chulanont &amp; Katsuki Yuuri, Phichit Chulanont &amp; Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont &amp; Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti, Victor Nikiforov &amp; Yuri Plisetsky, Yuri Plisetsky &amp; Potya | Puma Tiger Scorpion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>do not look for an actual chapter here</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>please forgive me, if you want to read this. i have a horrible case of procrastination</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. brevity is the soul of wit (but they needed something here)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>you guys<br/>the title is taken from the blurb ao3 gives you in red when you didn't fill out a necessary field when writing</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>so i realized it was nearing the end of the month, and finally started writing my first chapter. i'm proud to say that the first official chapter should be out by the end of this week. thank you for your support and patience.</p><p>feel free to comment with any questions, like "why are you so slow" or "do you like cheese". the respective answers are "I'm part sloth," and "Je suis adore cheese." ahaha, you see my french skills?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. but we tried to fight it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>lets start at the beginning</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>There was a time, not very long ago when we lived in an enchanted world of elegant palaces and grand parties. The year was 1960, and my uncle, Nicolas, was the Czar of Imperial Russia.</em>
</p><p>The music played, and people danced. The dressed twirled as the ladies danced with their lovers. A clap rang out, seconds later two more came. The Grand Duke, nephew to Czar Nicolas, Viktor Nikiforov, took his seat and waved at the young boy dancing with his father. </p><p>The words came out quick, but no less affectionate, "Hello, darling!", and the young boy's lips twitched into a smile. He didn't stop dancing with his father though, and when Nicolas picked him up, he let out an "Oh, papa," with a small giggle. It was barely heard over the joyful music</p><p>
  <em>We were celebrating the 300th anniversary of our family [redacted]. And that night no star burned brighter than that of our sweet Yuratchka.</em>
</p><p>Yura walked up the stairs with a little struggle, grumbling at his garbs. When he got to Viktor, though, he presented the teenager with a card of a cat sitting elegantly on what looks to be a velvet bench. Viktor, who had always adored dogs more than cats, still clutched the card to his heart and ruffled Yura's soft blonde hair. Only for appearance's sake, he scowled as he smoothed the strands back down, before sticking his tongue out at Viktor.</p><p>
  <em>My youngest cousin. </em>
</p><p>Unbeknownst to the two, a young servant boy around Yura's age stumbled out into the banquet hall. He nibbled on the red apple in his hand, as he stared at the handsome teenager on the throne, enthralled by the silver hair and pretty blue eyes. <em>Like cerulean blue,</em> he thought numbly before the head butler whispered out a harsh "<em>Yuuri!</em>". The boy jolted and dropped his apple as the butler pulled him away, saying, "<em>You belong in the kitchen!"</em></p><p>Viktor pulled out a gold and green box from his purse. Yura's eyes went wide and curious, so innocently childish.</p><p>
  <em>He begged me not to go to Paris, so I had a very special gift made for him. To make the separation easier.</em>
</p><p>Yura's smaller hand gently grabbed it, "For me," he murmured, "Is it a jewelry box?"</p><p>The question went unanswered as Viktor's nimble fingers grasped a necklace, put it to the box, and twisted it ever so gently.</p><p>"Look," Viktor breathed, and the lid opened. Two figures appeared, and music played gently. Yura's eyes lit up, and he let out a gasp, "It plays our lullaby."</p><p>"You can play it at night before you go to sleep, and pretend it's me singing." He said cheerfully. Yura's retort of <em>I'</em><em>m not sure I want to hear that</em>, was lost as he looked at the figures of his mother and father twirling around. </p><p><em>"On the wind, cross the sea, hear this song and remember," </em>Viktor crooned, and took his cousin's hand as he started to sway, <em>"Soon you'll be home with me, once upon a December," </em>they sang, and Yura finished with a little bow.</p><p>"Read what it says," Viktor gave the necklace to the boy, his fingers twisted it as he tilted his head, "Together," he said, "in Paris." Yura's head jerked up, "Really! Oh, Viktor," and Yura opened his arms wide, and was swept into a sweet hug.</p><p>
  <em>But we would never be together in Paris.</em>
</p><p>A hooded figure walked through the doors, his lanky body covered in a dark robe. The crowd parted around him with terrified gasps and indignant murmurs. One of the women closer to the unknown figure only took steps back as her glass slipped out of her fingers.</p><p>
  <em>For a dark shadow had descended upon the house of the Plisetskys.</em>
</p><p>The man stepped onto the shattered glass, crunching the shards even more. He was an ugly man, with a long, diamond face, fat nose, and long, bony fingers, paired with long nails that looked like talons. His overgrown beard swayed with each crooked step, along with a glowing cylinder dangling from his hip.</p><p>
  <em>His name was Rasputin. We thought he was a holy man, but he was a fraud; power-mad, and dangerous.</em>
</p><p>His lips were spread over his teeth, and it almost seemed disarming at first. But the mad gleam in his eyes told of the truth.</p><p>"How <em>dare </em>you return to the palace!" Nicolas was disgruntled, it showed in his eyes, his face, his tone, the way his arm stretched out accusingly at Rasputin.</p><p>Rasputin only pulled down his hood and mocked innocence, but it only made him seem more unctuous, "But I am your confidant!" he drawled.</p><p>"Confidant?! Hah! You are a traitor; <em>get out</em>!" Nicolas shouted, but it was no use.</p><p>"You think you can banish the Great Rasputin?!" He yelled, " By the unholy powers vested in me, I banish <em>you</em>!" Gasps were heard from the crowd, and Rasputin's boney finger was pointed at the Czar. "<em>With</em> <em>a</em> <em>curse!</em>" </p><p>Viktor held Yura closer to him and leaned back in his chair, unsettled. Yuuri, who had wandered back out, was visibly shaking and took a step back. </p><p>"Mark my words," Rasputin drew his arms in, turned to the crowd, and after giving them all a good hard look, he flung his arm back around to Nicolas, his gaunt finger pointed at the Czar, and vociferated, "<em>You and your family will die! Within the</em> <em>fortnight!" </em>The rich ladies and lords broke into mutterings, aggrieved. Nicolas turned back to his family for split second, almost like he was checking if they were still there, if they were still alive.</p><p>But his voice was louder than the crowd, and as it grated the ears around him, he screamed, "I will not rest until I see the <em>end</em> <em>of the Plisetsky line!</em>" The chain in his hand clinked with every perturbating movement. With a grand gesture, Rasputin turned back to the crowd, finished his monologue with a foreboding, "<em>Forever!</em>", and held up the reliquary as the green grew brighter and brighter. The light came out from the eyes of the skull and stuck the chandelier. Amongst the high pitched screams and the scrambling feet, the chandelier fell from the ceiling and split into pieces.</p><p>
  <em>Consumed by his hatred for Nicolas and his family, Rasputin sold his soul for the power to destroy them.</em>
</p><p>Rasputin threw something in the well, and let out an elated gasp as a beacon shot up. Red whirling fire, and deep purple streaks of lightning. As he grasped at his throat, his cloak, skin, and muscles were sucked into the void, finished with the disgusting <em>plopop o</em>f his eyeballs. When he reached out his skeleton hands to the tube, green gas pouring from the mouth, it all grew back. He gestured with his hands, encouraging the demons to come out, and whispered the order of "<em>Go. Fulfill your dark purpose, and seal the fate of the Czar and his family. Once and for all."</em></p><p>
  <em>From that moment on, the spark of unhappiness in our family was fanned into a flame that would soon destroy our lives forever. </em>
</p><p>The tiny green bat-like demons came out of the reliquary and unlatched the lock of the palace gate for the angry townspeople. It was night, and the snow was falling heavily. But it didn't stop those who were armed with nothing but rope, sticks, and torches. When they reached the statue of Nicolas II, they looped up there ropes, threw it on the statue, and <em>pulled</em>. It came tumbling down with a grumble, and the head smashed off the body when it met the stone pavement.</p><p>Surrounded by flames, as the red smoke lit up the night sky, those in the castle were running for there lives, dressed in nothing but the sleepwear. "<em>Papa</em>!" Yura called, and Nicolas' voice echoed amongst the crowed, directed towards his family, "Hurry children!" </p><p>Yura's stomach sank even further, and his eyes went wide as he screamed out "My music box!" and ripped himself out of Viktor's grasp, who chased after him, with a wavering shout of, "<em>Yuratchka! </em><em>Come</em> <em>back, come back!</em>" Yura threw open his heavy wooden doors and scrambled to the play-fortress in the middle of his room. Viktor came in after him, wide-eyed and frightened, and closed the door behind him. "Yuratchka," he called, and Yura looked at him as he grabbed the music box from the fortress. Explosions sounded nearby, Viktor flinched and looked around, his own tussled hair whipping him in the face, for somewhere to go. Yuuri peeked in from the servant's entrance, as Bartok landed outside the window. "<em>Please,</em> hurry," and grabbed Yura's shoulders leading him back out the room. Yuuri, in a singular moment of courage, grabbed onto Viktor silk robe, and yanked him in the direction of the servant's entrance. "Come, this way," he said, "Out the servant quarters." Viktor allowed himself to be pulled along, his hands and eyes kept on Yura.</p><p>As he pulled Yura in front of him, the music box fell out of the boy's carpet. "Hurry Yuratchka," he said, and threw one last look at the young boy behind him, all he saw was pale skin, dark hair, and warm brown eyes before he was ushered in after Yura. As he hurried down the small hall, Yura turned around and ran into Yuuri, who was frantically pushing him back in the wall. "Rasputin," Bartok exclaimed as he rubbed his hands against his head nervously, "She's getting away!" </p><p>"My music box," Yura started, but Yuuri only yelled, "Go, go!" Just in time, he closed the half door back up, as he heard shouting from the main hall. Soldiers threw the door open and shouted at Yuuri, "Where are they, boy?!" Yuuri looked around, and he saw a weird twisty thing which he threw at the men, but it was futile. They ran to Yuuri, and beat on him with their guns. As the butt of their guns turned his skin black and blue, he pried open his eyes and grabbed at the music box on the ground. He tucked it into his chest and closed his eyes.</p><p>Dawn was approaching, and it lit up the sky. Viktor was pulling Yura along in the snow. When Rasputin saw them, he let out a dissatisfied grumble, and jumped from the bridge, latching onto Yura's leg, who screamed. Yura collapsed with the force, and it pulled at Viktor's shoulders. He turned around and let out a growl of, "Rasputin!" and pulled at Yura who was screaming, "Let me go! Please!"</p><p>"You'll never escape me, child," he grunted, and through clenched teeth, he let out, "<em>Never."</em> But the ice beneath Rasputin started cracking. He let out a terrified grunt, and his eyes grew wide. He released his grip on Yura and scrabbled for purchase, his long, pointy nails scraping pitifully at the snow. The was a small flurry of white against the snow, "Bartok!" he yelled, "Master!" he yelled back. But Bartok could do nothing and stood there as his master sank into the freezing depths of the water. Gurgling was heard, and the only that Bartok saw last was the greenish skin of his master's hand before he sank even farther.</p><p>The whistle of the train broke through the air, and people passed luggage, grabbed at hands, all trying to board the train. "Yuratchka, hurry," Viktor grunted as he forced his way through the crowd. When he reached the latter of the train, the passengers on board grasped at him to help him up. Yura was left reaching out for Viktor, as he reached back at him. But Yura was so young, and his little legs could only go so fast. Viktor leaned over the rails, doing anything he could to grab his little cousin's hand. "Viktor," Yura whimpered, tears in his eyes. "Grab my hand!", Viktor managed to clasp their hands together, but it was feeble. "Don't let go!" Yura cried, his eyes wide and scared. Viktor felt tears gather in his eyes as he felt Yura's fingers slip through his grasp, and the loss of force caused Yura to fall. His head hit the ground with a <em>thud</em>, and Viktor was left shouting "<em>Yuratchka! Yuratchka!</em>" as the train carried him farther and farther away from his unconscious little cousin.</p><p>
  <em>So many lives were destroyed that night. What had always been was now gone forever. And my Yuratchka. My beloved cousin; I never saw him again.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1) title was shamelessly taken from "We Didn't Start The Fire" by Billy Joel<br/>2) the [redacted] part is at the beginning because I don't know what it says. if you do, message me. thanks!<br/>3) "plopop" towards the end, when I talk about the eyes, is because I was going to put "plop plop" but because the eyes popped out so close together, I thought it sounded more like "plopop"<br/>4)I changed some scenes, nothing too major, but some things were changed to fit the characters we know, and other things were changed because I had already written it down, and then went back to the movie and saw it didn't go like that<br/>5) i'm still figuring out the usage of italics. the ones without the quotation marks are the grandmother speaking, in this case viktor. those in are somewhere between whispers and yells. so, forgive me for that. it's also onomatopoeias, which I need help with. give me some ideas, please<br/>6)AND the names. So Anastasia is a long name, which I replaced with Yuratchka(?), and when they weren't talking to Yuri, I called him Yura. now  I know his actual name is Yuri, but I think the other two fit better. ofc, the name Anya is going to be Yuri. originally, I wrote Yuratchka and Yuri, but then I changed Yuri to Yura, so let me know if you find a mistake.<br/>7) lol, sometimes I forget to change the pronouns, so lemme know if that happens</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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